


who needs affection (when i have blind hatred?)

by bbeanseu



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Han Sanghyuk | Hyuk is a Little Shit, Inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You (1999), Kim Wonshik Is Whipped, Lee Hongbin is So Done, M/M, Matchmaking, POV Alternating, nbin's unique brand of one-sided enemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbeanseu/pseuds/bbeanseu
Summary: Transfer student Kim Wonshik falls in love at first sight with Lee Jaehwan, which is all well and good except for the fact that. Well. Jaehwan doesn't date.Hongbin likes being single, thank you very much. It's not like anybody at this stupid school wants to date him.Or: the 10 Things I Hate About You AU nobody asked for but I wrote anyway.
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Lee Hongbin, Han Sanghyuk | Hyuk/Jung Taekwoon | Leo, Kim Wonshik | Ravi/Lee Jaehwan | Ken
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here's a 10 things/taming of the shrew au because i have no self control. you don't need to have seen the movie ((but if you haven't then watch it asap it's really really good))
> 
> anyways. enjoy!!!

Wonshik shifts in his seat. He's playing with a loose string on his pants leg as he waits for the principal to finish whatever it is the principal is in the middle of. She doesn't seem to be anywhere close to done, though, and hasn't even given any indication that she'd heard him when he came in and greeted her and hesitantly sat down on the seat in front of her desk, hasn't looked up from her laptop even once.

"Um.”

Wonshik’s voice is faint, unsure, when he speaks up for the first time that morning outside of the anxious pleasantries he’d said upon entering the room. Anxious pleasantries that had gone ignored. He opens his mouth to say more, but the principal holds a finger up and a chill runs down Wonshik’s spine. He clamps his mouth shut.

Ms Principal hums and goes back to typing, not missing a beat.

Deflating against his seat, Wonshik resorts to staring forlornly at the wall clock. Its calculated ticking is the only thing he can hear apart from the sound of his own breathing and the clicks coming from the principal's laptop, her fingers gliding across the keys. It's getting close to eight o'clock.

He's going to be late on his first day of school. Great. And it isn't even going to be his fault.

"Is this even the right office?" he dares ask again. 

It's a stupid question. If the placard on the lady's desk hasn't been indication enough ㅡ which it is, considering SCHOOL PRINCIPAL is printed in neat, bold letters underneath her name ㅡ the way she abruptly stops typing and sends him a deadpan stare completely void of any amusement whatsoever, is. There's an anger lurking underneath the exasperated blankness in her eyes, and the look on her face makes Wonshik shrink back, mild annoyance quickly reverting into fear.

The principal sighs. She closes her laptop and puts it aside along with whatever she'd been working on and flips open a folder, skimming through it before her eyes flit up to look at him again, "Kim Wonshik, right?"

Wonshik nods several times, quick, frantic bursts of motion.

She raises her eyebrows.

Wonshik clears his throat. “Yes ma'am.”

She hums and goes back to the file, tracing something with her finger.

"This says here that you've been transferred to nine different schools in the past ten years," she says, glancing at him.

Wonshik opens his mouth to explain, but the principal only holds a hand up once again, clicking her tongue. "That’s fine. I'm not here to ask about your tragic backstory."

"It's not tragic," Wonshik says to himself. The principal isn't listening. She's busy rifling through her desk drawer, pulling out a couple pieces of paper and pushing them across the surface of her desk, towards Wonshik.

"Well," says the scary principal, "Don't expect anything different here at Padua. It's all the same."

As if on cue, a baseball crashes through the window behind her, and Wonshik winces when it bounces to a halt on the floor next to his chair. The principal only rolls her eyes and flashes her middle finger in the general direction of the window. "Same little asswipe shit for brains everywhere."

Wonshik sputters and gapes at her. The principal’s gaze turns sharp, annoyed, and she snaps, “What are you waiting for? Scram!”

Wonshik quickly gathers up the papers into his arms and forces a polite smile at the principal. "Thank you. I think I'm going to leave now." The words are spilling out of his mouth like rapid-fire bullets, spoken so fast he can barely breathe in the spaces between.

"No, thank  _ you _ ," Ms Principal says. "Now get the fuck out of my office."

Wonshik cannot scurry out of there fast enough.

He bumps into another student on the way out ㅡ a little shorter than him, just by an inch or two, but when they lock eyes for the briefest of moments and the other guy raises one perfectly arched eyebrow at him Wonshik doesn't think he's ever felt so terrified in his life before that moment, even in that one time when he'd gone to a horror house as a kid and started crying not even halfway through. 

There's just something about the stranger's presence that fills up the atmosphere in a way Wonshik can't describe ㅡ like he knows how to command the attention of a room, it's intimidating and kind of feels like it's sucking out all the oxygen from Wonshik's lungs.

Then the door to the principal's main office swings shut, and Wonshik heaves a sigh of relief when he doesn't feel that phantom weight pressing against his lungs anymore.

He ducks out of the waiting area, flashing a shaky smile at the assistant principal sitting behind the counter on his way out. She'd been a lot more pleasant than the actual principal, from what Wonshik had gathered from their brief exchange before he'd been called in, and it’s only polite.

"Sanghyuk should be outside. He'll show you around," she informs him. Wonshik furrows his eyebrows together. 

He has no idea who the hell Sanghyuk is, has no idea what he even looks like ㅡ but she's already gone back to her paperwork, so Wonshik just nods slowly to himself without getting any answers whatsoever. 

He pushes out of the heavy glass doors of the office.

There is no Sanghyuk waiting by the doors. 

In fact, there is nobody waiting by the doors.

All the students he can see are busy talking to each other, putting things in or taking things out of their locker and quite obviously not looking around for a clueless transfer student they're supposed to show around. Wonshik purses his lips and takes a look at the sheets of paper in his hand, at the one in the front indicating his schedule and his locker number.

"Fucked," he hisses to himself. "I am so fucked."

He pushes past the students crowding each other like a barely-synchronized colony of ants and makes his way to locker number 247, mumbling apologies under his breath the entire way. Not that anyone really notices.

"You'll be transferring again, they said," he mutters to himself, fumbling with the locker combination, everyone else too occupied with their lives to see him. "It'll be fun, they said."

He starts putting in books that he doesn't need for the day, having to glance at his schedule every now and then.

Wonshik steps back when he's done, and he's just about to shut his locker door when somebody does it for him.

Wonshik doesn't jump back and choke down a barely-suppressed scream.

He doesn't.

He just flinches. Quite violently. It isn't the same thing. Nobody's staring at him at least, as far as he can tell. Thank God for small miracles or something like that.

Sucking in a sharp breath, he turns to the direction of the whoever had closed his locker door and nearly given him a heart attack, and the first thing he sees is, well ㅡ broad. The guy is broad. And tall. He's standing next to Wonshik, and the way his eyes crinkle in tandem with the boyish smile spread across his face is fucking adorable.

There's something about the way he grins that makes the irritation ebb away.

"Hey," says the guy ㅡ grin turning apologetic as he scratches the back of his neck. "Sorry about that, you the new kid?”

Wonshik blinks, and nods. “I think so?”

“Cool, cool,” Sanghyuk laughs, before shaking his head. “I'm supposed to show you around? I'm Sanghyuk."

He holds out a hand. Wonshik takes it.

"Wonshik."

"Right!" says Sanghyuk, with light in his eyes. "Great! Come on." And, well ㅡ suddenly there's a hand around Wonshik's forearm, and Sanghyuk is guiding him around the crowd with ease, his other hand clutched around the strap of his backpack. He lets go once they're out of the crowd, and Wonshik hurries to catch up with his swift, long strides. "We've got like, ten minutes."

"Maybe we can go to class first," Wonshik suggests, stopping in his tracks. "You can show me around at like, recess."

Sanghyuk makes a sour face, but he shrugs anyways. "Sure. Who've you got first?"

Wonshik shows him his schedule, and Sanghyuk grins. "Sweet! We're headed the same direction. I'll walk you there."

Wonshik blinks down at the sheet of paper. "That's cool."

He's already making a new friend. Wonshik can't help the sliver of warmth that unfurls in the cavity of his chest. Sanghyuk starts walking again; his voice fills the silence between them, pulling words from his lungs and making easy conversation like it's a sixth sense. Wonshik almost envies him.

They stop at a door just as the warning bell rings. Sanghyuk tells him he'll stop by first period, and Wonshik nods and watches Sanghyuk disappear into another classroom further across the hallway.

* * *

First period goes, all things considered, pretty well.

Wonshik has to suffer through introducing himself to the class ㅡ which he really hadn't missed. It's one of the things he dreads the most outside having to look for a seat or find someone to have lunch with. He hopes he can eat with Sanghyuk. He'd hate to have nobody to eat with but himself.

But after the drag of standing there in front and staring at his classmates' dead eyes and sleepy, monotone chorus as they greeted him, he spends the rest of the period in his seat, only half listening to the teacher as he scribbled nonsensical words on the borders of his notebook.

Before he knows it, the bell is ringing again and students are filtering out of the classroom, eager to have fifteen minutes to themselves before they had to spend the rest of the morning nodding off in their desks. He catches Sanghyuk in the crowd ㅡ he towers over a lot of the other students, and he's still got that boyish grin on his face as he holds up a hand in greeting, bouncing like an excitable puppy.

"How was first period?"

Wonshik smiles back, the stress from way back earlier fading off completely. "Fine, I guess. More normal than I expected?"

Both of Sanghyuk's eyebrows rise. "What did you expect?"

"The principal didn't really give a good first impression."

"Oh!" Sanghyuk laughs, clapping his hands together as he navigated the halls. Wonshik pays close attention to his surroundings, committing every twist and turn to memory. Sanghyuk turns to him, stage whispers, "She's just cranky. Kids keep interrupting her porno."

Wonshik chokes on his spit. "What?"

"It's an open secret. It's a Johnlock fanfic, I think. She's very passionate about it,"

Wonshik looks at his hands, mildly horrified. Mostly just disturbed. "So that's what she was writing."

Sanghyuk only laughs again.

"So," Sanghyuk says. Wonshik listens, looking around as he talks. "Tour, and briefing. Wonshik  _ do not _ look in that direction."

He says it with his voice sharp and quick and urgent that Wonshik shakes his head and looks back at Sanghyuk, glancing between him and the group of guys standing by the lockers. "Why not?"

"Because we are on different levels of the social hierarchy," Sanghyuk says matter of factly. "Observe." he turns to the group Wonshik had looked at earlier. "What’s up!"

Someone ㅡ he looks like a caricature of fuckboy culture, down to the slicked-back hair and fancy chains and Letterman jacket ㅡ snaps, "Don't fucking talk to us."

Wonshik winces, and Sanghyuk looks back at him with his arms raised like  _ I told you so _ , complete with a shrug of his shoulders. "There's that. You do not talk to them. Off limits. You'll just lose braincells."

Wonshik nods, putting that information away.

And then Sanghyuk's leading him out of the building. There are students scattered across the campus grounds, talking to each other, looking at their phones, eating. Wonshik skims from one side of the grounds to another.

"Well then who can I talk to?"

Sanghyuk shrugs. "Everyone else? Though not everyone's the best to talk to, of course." He gestures to a random group with his thumb, all of them gathered flanked around someone holding a phone and scrolling through it. "The furries are over there, if that's your thing."

Wonshik doesn't think furries are his thing.

"There are a lot of horse girls too. I'm pretty sure there's a Sonic cult. Steer clear of those."

He emphasizes all of those with a flick of his thumb in a certain direction. Wonshik shudders. "Noted."

They’re coming close to a group of kids sitting at a picnic table and huddled over reviewers and binders. Sanghyuk points to them.

"There's also these assholes. My people. We’re all aiming for the SKY." Sanghyuk sounds proud as he says it and Wonshik chuckles at the pun. The former strides up to a picnic table and puts his hand down smack in the middle of it, the other one doing finger guns. "Hey, how’s everyone."

The kids around the table jeer. Someone yells, "Get out of here, Sanghyuk!"

Sanghyuk scowls and flashes them all the finger, stalking back to Wonshik. There’s a look on his face not unlike petulant offense. "Believe me, yesterday, I was their  _ god _ ."

Wonshik grimaces in sympathy. "What happened?"

Sanghyuk merely waves a hand, "Oh, nothing they won’t pay for." He says it airily, but there's a glint in his eyes and Wonshik decides he's probably better off not knowing, anyway.

Sanghyuk keeps walking, towards a destination Wonshik doesn't really know, continuing to prattle on about The People of Padua and pointing at random stuff, narrating their surroundings in a ridiculous accent.

("That one there's a rosebush. If you look closely there are a lot of pretty red flowers that grow there, called roses."

"There's a pond over there. It's got fish. And a lot of dirty shit. It's disgusting."

It would be condescending, Wonshik thinks, if it were anyone else, but that's cancelled out by the observation that Sanghyuk is probably just a dork.

"Legend says that sometimes you'll see the face of a woman pressed up against the glass."

The last one definitely doesn't scare Wonshik enough to drag Sanghyuk away, no Sanghyuk, stop laughing, it's not funny. Sanghyuk doesn't stop laughing. Wonshik makes a note to avoid that certain window, and whatever room was inside. It might just be a load of bullshit but there is no fucking way he’s taking chances.)

And then Wonshik sees  _ him _ .

He comes to an abrupt halt, his gaze locked on the beautiful boy not even ten feet away from him ㅡ close enough that Wonshik can hear him laugh, and the sound makes a hundred butterflies flip flop in the cage of his stomach, makes his heart flutter like the frantic beating of a hummingbird's wings. Wonshik's eighty percent sure that the boy is emitting an ethereal glow, like he’s some angel sent down from the heavens for Wonshik himself ㅡ

Wonshik is a romantic, he knows, but he's never really understood the idea of love at first sight until right at this moment.

"And that," Sanghyuk says, stopping next to Wonshik, still taking on what he'd pegged as his tour guide voice, "Is out of your league.”

Wonshik snaps his head in Sanghyuk's direction. “Really.”

Sanghyuk must see the question in his eyes, because he shakes his head. "Really, forget it. It's never going to happen."

Wonshik purses his lips stubbornly.

Sanghyuk gestures to the boy's direction with a bob of his head, "His name's Lee Jaehwan. Hey."

It sounds like he’s saying more, but Wonshik is barely listening to him.

"Lee Jaehwan," Wonshik echoes to himself in a whisper, the word feeling precious as it rolls off his tongue.

"Hey." Sanghyuk says again. He's facing Wonshik, putting his hands on Wonshik's shoulders, and once they've got eye contact he pulls back. "Listen, man, I don’t want to crush your hopes and dreams but if you were on this level of the food chain ㅡ " he measures an invisible line reaching up to about Wonshik's shoulders, "Then Lee Jaehwan is here."

Sanghyuk stands on his tiptoes and stretches his arm all the way up, drawing a horizontal line way above both of their heads. 

He's looking at Wonshik with a pinched expression, as if certain his next few words will break Wonshik's heart. "And Kim Wonshik, my man, it pains me to say this but if I were you I'd look for someone more... my level."

"You’re right,” Wonshik mumbles with a sad sigh. “You  _ have _ crushed my hopes and dreams.” 

"I'm only being honest." Sanghyuk placates, holding his hands up in defense, "People like us, people like him, we don't match."

"Romeo and Juliet," Wonshik breathes out.

"Listen," Sanghyuk says, looking pained. "He's not worth it. Jaehwan's a pretty face but his head is full of air."

"Maybe you just don't know him yet."

"Wonshik you literally just transferred."

Wonshik makes a face that looks like he's just swallowed an entire lemon whole. But he breathes in. "I will."

"That's very inspirational but you can't date him."

"Try me."

Wonshik has never felt determination like this before. His eyes search the courtyard for another glimpse of Jaehwan, and when he sees him ㅡ talking to his friend, still laughing at something ㅡ Wonshik can feel the little flip flops in his stomach once again.

"Boy ㅡ " Sanghyuk brings his palms together, pressed against his mouth, inhaling. "Sorry, Wonshik. You literally can't. Jaehwan doesn't date."

Wonshik blinks, the information taking a few moments to process. "What do you mean?"

Sanghyuk makes vague motions with his hands. "I don't get it myself, honestly. But he doesn't date."

Wonshik feels despair setting in. "I burn," he bemoans. "I pine, I perish."

Sanghyuk rolls his eyes. "Okay, Romeo. What's your next period?"

* * *

  
  


Wonshik, honest to God, does not spend the entirety of his morning classes thinking about Lee Jaehwan, actual angel, probably the most beautiful and adorable person he's ever set his eyes on in his entire seventeen years of existence.

Wonshik is also lying.

The teachers drone on, every word going in one ear and out the other. Wonshik had tried to pay attention, really, but it's not his fault that they sound so bored and disinterested and it's not his fault that whatever they're talking about is just as boring.

So he daydreams.

"You're a walking stereotype," Sanghyuk tells him over lunch, grimacing after he swallows down his cheap cafeteria food. Wonshik’s grateful his mother had packed something up for him.

"I'm not a walking stereotype."

Sanghyuk doesn’t look convinced. "Trust me, you are. It's like you walked out of a romance movie or something. Or a slice of life anime. That's how much of a stereotype you are."

Wonshik pretends to bristle, but he can't really be offended, he thinks, especially since he'd spent the past couple of hours Not Thinking About Jaehwan. He takes a swig from his can of Pepsi and puts it down on the shining surface of the cafeteria table. "I'm a romantic."

"I know," Sanghyuk says with a resigned sigh, but there's no real bite behind his words. "You're pining and you barely even know the guy. That's like a whole other level, man."

Wonshik frowns. "I can't help it," he defends, and it's a flimsy excuse but, well ㅡ he really can't. It's not his fault that the world pretty much put what might be the most perfect guy ever right in front of him. Speaking of ㅡ Wonshik scans the cafeteria, but he doesn't see any sign of Jaehwan. He tries not to feel too disappointed.

Sanghyuk looks at him over his lunch, eyes narrowed and eyebrows knitted together. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"You knew that," Wonshik says cheerfully.

Sanghyuk looks like he's about to say something, but then he leans back against his chair, running a hand through his a mess of dark locks. "I did, didn't I?"

Wonshik nods.

Sanghyuk gives a long-suffering sigh. "Well then. I guess you leave me no choice."

Wonshik raises a questioning eyebrow at him, and Sanghyuk presses his lips into a thin line.

"I've decided I'm going to help you," Sanghyuk tells him. Wonshik can feel his spirits lift, can feel his mouth stretching into a grin. Sanghyuk's massaging his forehead like he's already regretting his words but there's a tiny smile lifting at the corners of his lips too.

"Really?"

"Really," Sanghyuk confirms. Then he keeps eating and changes the subject. By the time they've finished eating their lunch, there's still a good half hour left before they have to leave for afternoon classes. 

Soon enough, Sanghyuk pushes his tray aside and pulls a thin, red notebook out of his backpack. "Back to the matter at hand," he announces, flipping open the notebook and producing a pen, scribbling  _ OPERATION LEE JAEHWAN _ on the pristine white sheets.

"Ooh, a plan," Wonshik says, leaning closer.

"All the best operations need the best plans." Sanghyuk speaks like he's imparting some of the deepest wisdom in the world and Wonshik can't help but nod along to his words. "Lucky for you, you made friends with me."

"Lucky indeed," Wonshik agrees.

Sanghyuk snorts. He taps the inked end of his pen twice on the notebook, leaving two tiny ink blots next to Jaehwan's name.

"As you know, our biggest obstacle is that Jaehwan doesn't date."

Underneath the OPERATION: LEE JAEHWAN staining the notebook page, Sanghyuk writes down a messy bullet point stating DOESN'T DATE.

"So you've mentioned." Wonshik squints at the words written in Sanghyuk's scrawl. "Why, exactly?"

Sanghyuk shrugs. "I don't know. Do I look like I know?"

"He's popular! I thought you'd have some idea."

"Well, I don't," Sanghyuk mutters, but then his face lights up. "But I know someone who does! Probably." He pauses, and the bright expression on his face dims a little, "I hope."

Wonshik's about to ask who it is when Sanghyuk cuts him off, waving someone over to their table and calling out, "Taekwoon! Hey! Over here, hey!"

Wonshik follows his gaze, sees someone standing still a few feet away, carrying a tray full of food. He's all cheekbones and gangly limbs, and he's got a vaguely annoyed look in his sharp eyes as he looks back at their table before trudging over to them and setting his food down. 

And it's ㅡ

Well. It's a lot of food.

"Sanghyuk," the stranger says coolly, and ㅡ wow. Wonshik hadn't expected his voice to be as soft as it sounds. He looks at Wonshik. "Who's this?"

Sanghyuk beams. "Ah! This is Wonshik. Taekwoon, Wonshik. Glad to see my two only friends know each other, now."

Taekwoon turns back to Sanghyuk, eyes narrowing. "We're not friends."

"That's right," Sanghyuk says seriously, nodding his head. "We're more."

Taekwoon sputters and glares daggers at Sanghyuk, bit Wonshik doesn't miss the pink haze that dusts over his pale cheeks.

"Shut up," Taekwoon scowls.

"Taekwoon, no offense, but you're about as threatening as a hamster."

"Um." Wonshik says, looking between the two of them in awkward confusion, his voice seemingly reminding them that yes, he's still there, and he's feeling very lost. Sanghyuk claps his hands together. Taekwoon puts his lunch on the table and sits down next to Wonshik.

"Taekwoon," he says, extending his hand. There's a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Nice to meet you."

Wonshik takes it. He smiles back, easing his expression into something friendly and polite, "Yeah. Nice to meet you too."

"Super important meeting here," Sanghyuk interrupts. "Hello?"

Taekwoon sends a dirty look in Sanghyuk's direction and Wonshik stifles a laugh. Sanghyuk pretends not to see it, the only indication that he'd noticed being the shit eating grin on his face. He keeps his gaze focused on Taekwoon, who's started practically inhaling his lunch. Wonshik watches in what he thinks must almost be wonder. Taekwoon's stuffing so much food in his mouth and swallowing without pause. It's a fascinating sight.

"Whaf's thish a'out," Taekwoon says over a mouthful of food.

"Well." Sanghyuk holds the notebook up, showing Taekwoon what he'd written ㅡ a grand total of five words. "Wonshik has a crush."

Wonshik reddens but doesn't make any mood to deny it.

Taekwoon holds a hand up and swallows. "Jaehwan doesn't date."

"Yeah, no shit," Sanghyuk says, exasperated.

Wonshik sags at the reminder. Sanghyuk looks at him, like he's telling him to hold on, before turning back to Taekwoon, who'd already emptied his plate moved on to a sandwich. "That's why we're helping him."

"We are?"

"We are."

Taekwoon makes a thoughtful noise. 

Wonshik can feel his cheeks heating up, "You don't have to, of course."

Sanghyuk waves him off. "So we ㅡ "

"You," Wonshik cuts in, unhelpfully.

"We," Sanghyuk repeats, "Thought you might know why."

Taekwoon chews on his sandwich. It's already halfway finished. He dabs at the corners of his lips with a piece of tissue paper and states, "I do."

Sanghyuk and Wonshik look at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he only reaches for the muffin waiting on his lunch tray. He takes a bite out of it and Sanghyuk sighs.

"Taekwoooon."

"Hm?" Taekwoon asks, too busy eating his muffin to look up.

"You're a little shit."

Taekwoon only hums again. Sanghyuk frowns. It looks almost like a pout. Wonshik squirms in his seat, trying not to feel like he's intruding something.

Finally, Taekwoon caves. He breaks eye contact with Sanghyuk, looking at something off to the side. "What do you want to know?"

Sanghyuk leans closer. "Why doesn't Jaehwan date?"

"He's got a pact." Upon Sanghyuk and Wonshik's looks of confusion, Taekwoon clears his throat and elaborates. "He made a no dating pact."

"Well that's weird," Sanghyuk blinks. "We can just talk to them, I guess."

Anxiety seizes Wonshik by the chest. "You know, now that I've thought about it, this might not be the best idea." The words leave his lungs in a rush, strung together with barely any space between. 

Sanghyuk looks at him, skeptical and challenging, and Wonshik sighs. "You're right."

"Damn right I am," Sanghyuk agrees. "No-dating pact. Who even does that anyway?"

"Jaehwan," Taekwoon says. A weird expression passes over his face for a moment. He looks hesitant. Almost guilty. "And Lee Hongbin."

Wonshik doesn't know what that look means, but judging by the way Taekwoon's face twists and the quiet mutter of "Ah, fuck," coming from Sanghyuk's direction, there's no way it can be good. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hshdjsjs i know i said weekly updates im sorry 

Hongbin wakes up with a headache Monday morning, the shrieking of his alarm clock pounding in his ears. His temples are throbbing and his eyes weigh tons, and it feels like cotton has replaced the insides of his mouth. He grimaces at the taste of overnight saliva and wipes at his mouth. He'd drooled a little in his sleep. Gross.

It's a struggle to even pull the covers off himselfㅡ his bones feel like they'd been replaced with lead, heavy and painful to lift. His muscles ache and his neck hurts but he pulls himself up, wincing at the burn in his joints, and blindly feels for his alarm clock because God fuck he cannot hear his own thoughts over that incessant blaring.

After several moments of wrestling for the alarm's off button, he runs a hand over his face, relishing the blessed silence. Hongbin slowly opens his eyes, hissing through clenched teeth when the glare of the brightness attacks him without mercy, and he rolls off the bed and hits the floor with an unceremonious thud.

Mornings.

Hongbin hates mornings.

Bad enough that he'd slept in a bad mood. Now he's woken up on the wrong side of the bed as well. Hongbin pushes himself up to his feet, staggering to the door. He rubs at his eyes and tries to blink the vertigo away.

“Are you awake, Hongbin?” his grandmother calls from the living room. The TV’s on; he cam hear the morning news. He can smell the delicious scent of breakfast cookingㅡ his stomach growls in yearning, and he stumbles out of his bedroom with a yawns and a stretch of his arms.

“I'm up!” he calls back, making his way to the bathroom. He needs to wash the disgusting morning taste out of his mouth.

The toothbrush is immediately reached for the moment he gets to the bathroom. He applies an acceptable amount of toothpaste on it, sticking it into his mouth as he fills a glass with water.

Hongbin stares at himself in the bathroom mirror as he brushes his teeth. There are dark rings around his eyes. His hair is frazzled, sticking out in various directions. He's pale, too, and on the verge of breaking out. Hongbin sighs and spits, and when he turns on the tap and watches as water gets flushed down the sink, his mind takes him back to last night, fighting with Jaehwan right before bed, all the nasty words they'd said and yelled at each other. The memory stings like saltwater on a fresh wound, and he splashes some water on his face to try and shake them away.

“Today's going to be a great day,” Hongbin tells his tired reflection, who only stares back in utter bemusement. Hongbin scoffs to himself. Great day, his ass. Things are already shaping up to be absolute shit. 

And it's only seven AM.

His headache has gotten significantly worse.

“The food's getting cold!” his grandma yells, and Hongbin takes that as a cue to head downstairs. 

Hongbin's all set by seven forty-five. He's done with showering and changing and eating, and he makes sure to kiss his grandma on the cheek before he heads out. He always gets his things ready the night before, so he only has to grab his backpack before heading out the door. He grabs his keys, tooㅡ he'd scraped together some hard earned money to get his car, and it's mostly just a piece of junk full of scratches and dents barely held together, with uncomfortable seats and an AC system that works more as a heater than something to cool them off, but it's the product of his blood and sweat and tears and he'd be damned if it wasn't the love of his life (next to his PS4, of course.)

When Hongbin pulls up in front of Jaehwan’s house he has to let out a shaky sigh. He'd managed to somehow rile his anxieties up even more during the drive. His knuckles are pale from how tight his grip is around the wheel and he glances out the window, worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

Maybe Jaehwan’s already gone on ahead without him, too tired to deal with his bullshit this early in the morning. Maybe Jaehwan doesn’t even want to see him at all anymore. Hongbin wouldn’t blame him— they’ve been fighting more lately. And it's not like fights are so uncommon between them, its just that he just wonders how much more Jaehwan will take before he ups and leaves.

Hongbin shakes those thoughts out of his head before he can spiral even further. He hears the front door swing open and then slam shut, and the relief that fills him is so sudden and overwhelming that he thinks he might burst. Hongbin sees the exact moment Jaehwan catches sight of the car. His eyes widen, eyebrows rising up to his hair and his head tilting to the side, and Hongbin rolls down the windows and reaches over to unlock the window seat. For a brief moment, he’s scared Jaehwan might just turn his head with a huff, pretend he hadn’t seen him and go about his merry way but Hongbin quickly banishes the thought.

Jaehwan hasn’t walked to school since Hongbin got his car, not even when they fought, even if it was beaten up and ugly and, according to him “has seats so hard it would flatten my  _ ass,  _ Hongbinnie, my  _ ass _ ! Do you know how many squats I had to do to get such a perfect butt?”

So right now’s not going to be any different. Nothing’s going to change.

Right?

But what it does? This last fight had been somewhat a little bit heavier, both of them going for jabs that were definitely below the belt. Hongbin finds himself grimacing when he remembvers the things he’d said last night, the words that had spouted out of his mouth born out of— what? Envy and bitterness and anger? And now he’s probably fucked it up beyond belief, ruined a twelve year old friendship with his codependent bullshit.

Hongbin quashes those anxieties and shoves them away to deal with later, because Jaehwan’s walking in his direction now with one hand shoved in his pocket and the other wrapped tight around a backpack strap. He’s opening the car door and sliding inside with practiced ease. But even while he doesn’t yank at the seatbelt too hard or slam the door shut, Hongbin still shifts in the driver’s seat, grimacing at the heavy silence hanging between them.

He has no idea where they both stand, right now. They’re fighting, haven’t spoken after that heated phone call, not even texting an apology or a meme disguised as one, but Jaehwan’s here, sitting in his car.

“Morning,” Jaehwan chirps. It's almost normal, but his voice is too high too bright and he's pointedly looking out of the window and not at Hongbin, and that— ah. Well. Hongbin winces internally. They’re definitely not cool yet. Great, cool, good to know. Maybe they will be at the end of the ride. He hopes so. He doesn’t think he can survive much longer than a whole day of this.

“Morning,” Hongbin says back, and he tries not to feel too hurt when Jaehwan doesn’t even glance at him. Instead he clings to the shred of annoyance that courses through him and huffs and stares at the road, starting up the engine.

The first few minutes of the ride is filled with silence.

It’s heavy and ugly and awkward, and Hongbin can’t stand a single second of it. He already misses Jaehwan’s incessant yammering, already misses the way Jaehwan rambles, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute. And it hasn’t even been a day, what the fuck.

But Jaehwan’s being petty right now, and fuck if Hongbin isn’t going to be petty right back at him.

Hongbin, for the sake of his pride, does not look at Jaehwan lest he see the look on his face and cave, apologies flooding in his lungs spilling past his lips. It’s stupid, he knows. So stupid. Stupid and prideful and he should just apologize right now so they can put this whole thing behind them, but there;s an insistebt, stubborn part of his brain that nags on him, saying no, he shouldn’t be saying sorry, it should be Jaehwan— Hongbin hadn’t been the one to blow the other off yesterday.

Hongbin shakes his head and squeezes the wheel even tighter. He should just apologize.

But he really can’t find the words.

So instead he turns the stereo on, and the awful silence that he's unable to stand is replaced with mass-produced American pop music that's too loud, ringing in his ears and making his pounding headache even worse. He grimaces at the sound of it but doesn't make any move to change the station. It's because it's better than the god-awful silence, he tells himself, and the way Jaehwan is tapping his hand to the beat and occasionally bobbing his head along has absolutely nothing to do with it.

But then Jaehwan shifts. Hongbin can feel his stare on the side of his face, can see his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows in his peripheral vision, and he shifts underneath the weight of it. He feels like an exhibit being carefully examined, Jaehwan's eyes searching the cracks in his stubborn facade for something to read. 

“Hongbin,” Jaehwan says slowly. “You hate this.”

There's something thoughtful in his words, and Hongbin can't even hang onto the flash of irritation that he'd felt earlier. He clenches his jaw, frustrated not at Jaehwan but at himself, and keeps his eyes on the road.

It's hard to lie to Jaehwan, even like this, when the bridge between them is somewhat shaky and dangerous. Hongbin already finds it hard enough to lie in general, but when faced with his closest friend, the one person he can feel most comfortable with himself aroundㅡ it's even more difficult.

It's not limited to him, of courseㅡ he can see through Jaehwan's ticks and lies just as well. It's a given considering they'd grown up pretty much intertwined at the hip ever since that day in preschool, when Hongbin had thrown a Lego at Jaehwan's head and Jaehwan had cried and cried until Hongbin had to apologize. And then the next day Jaehwan just decided to sit next to Hongbin during playtime, instead of staying away from him like any other child would when someone threw a Lego block at them, and the rest is history.

He thinks maybe at first it was because they were both somewhat shy and didn't know how to talk to anyone else. Then they just realized they really liked each other's company. 

And now twelve years down the line they're practically brothers in every sense but in blood, barely even having any secrets from each other.

But. 

“I don't,” Hongbin lies anyway. 

Jaehwan frowns. “You do. You hate this. I can practically see the loathing radiating off of you in waves.”

“That isn't possible, weirdo,” Hongbin says with a roll of his eyes. He can see Jaehwan's mouth twitch, and he suppresses a smile of his own as he keeps driving. It's not quite  _ cool  _ yet, both of them still treading on unstable grounds, wanting to say sorry but never having the words, but it's a little easier to fall into more comfortable territory.

Jaehwan still isn't looking at him but his posture has relaxed slightly and his shoulders aren't as strung, and he looks like he's hiding a smile with the way he's staring out the window. Hongbin reaches for the stereo and turns down the volume as the tension strung between them dissolves into something less intense.

They don't really say much for the rest of the ride, but it doesn't end up being as uncomfortable as Hongbin thought it'd be. Soon enough he's pulling up a block away from the school. He looks at Jaehwan, but the latter doesn't climb out like he usually does. He's looking at Hongbin again with that same expression from earlier, the furrowed brows and slight frown, and he says, “You know I'm not embarrassed of you, right?”

But I'm embarrassed of me, Hongbin thinks, but all he responds with is, “So you've said,” with a duck of his head, avoiding Jaehwan's eyes.

Jaehwan breathes out through his nose. “Hongbin.”

Hongbin crosses his arms, not budging.

One thing Jaehwan and Hongbin don't have in common is Hongbin's general disdain for anything that involves having to socialize. 

While Jaehwan grew up he broke out of his metaphorical shell, gravitating towards bigger groups in general, finding that he enjoyed making other people smile. Jaehwan's bubbly and charismatic and easy to talk toㅡ not to mention was a pretty nice guy in generalㅡ and it was easy for him to find popularity among his peers, easy for him to find friends. But whereas Jaehwan grew up social and extroverted, Hongbin found himself growing more reserved. He was quiet and sometimes even prickly to strangers and snappish to the people he didn't like, distant and aloof when compared to Jaehwan's warm and inviting atmosphere. Most people at school couldn't even imagine they hung out, would laugh and say, “Nice joke,” if someone were to tell them they were the best of friends.

Hongbin can see how it might be absurd. Jaehwan, the school's prince, hanging out with the resident shrew? Preposterous.

“Hey, it's my car,” he points out. “You're getting out of it now.”

“You can't just kick me out!” Jaehwan cries.

“It's my car,” Hongbin repeats, and Jaehwan huffs, getting out with his mouth screwed into a disbelieving pout before marching away.

“Hey,” Hongbin says, before Jaehwan can get too far. Jaehwan stops and looks back and there's a hopeful look in his eyes. Hongbin grimaces, and then sighs. 

“For what it's worth,” he says, “I'm sorry. For. You know. Last night.”

He's trying not to break eye contact, but it's hard. Jaehwan raises his eyebrows, a smirk slowly crossing his face, and he cups a hand around one pointy ear and leans forward. “I'm sorry,” Jaehwan says with a bright grin, “I didn't quite hear what you said.”

“Oh don't be an asshole,” Hongbin huffs, groaning on the inside. “That's my brand.”

“Right,” Jaehwan says, before his smile goes soft. “I'm sorry too.”

“Great. We're cool now?”

He tries not to look so hopeful, so eager for Jaehwan's forgiveness. What is he, a pathetic lovestruck fool? He scoffs on the inside, but that doesn't stop the way his bottom lip trembles, ready to curl into a frown.

“We're cool now,” Jaehwan confirms with a serious nod before his face splits into a bright grin once more. The intensity of it would blind any unsuspecting person, but Hongbin only finds himself smiling right back. Jaehwan turns around with a bounce in his step and waves. “I'll see you later, Binnie!”

Hongbin watches him go, a lightness on his shoulders that's even more of a relief than Jaehwan getting into his car had been. Soon enough Hongbin's parking his car and getting out with a slight smile on his face and in a far better mood than he'd woken up in. He slips his earbuds in and scrolls through his phone, looking for something to listen to.

A shout of, “Nice car, dickwad!” effectively shatters his mood. Hongbin bristles and shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and puts his music on blast, and the volume makes his head hurt all over again but at least he doesn't have to hear their jeers and their laughter. He scowls at the space in front of him and sighs loudly.

It's still a pretty shit day, in the end.

The day drags on like it always does.

Boring, classes with teachers droning on and their words going in one ear and out the other, students throwing crumpled paper at each other and laughing and talking to themselves as the lectures went on, Hongbin getting jeered at in the halls. He keeps his earbuds in and flips them all off and ignores them the best way he can. They keep going. Cool, fine, not like he cares.

Most of the students of Padua either do not like Hongbin or don't care for him at all, majority being the former. He's pretty sure he can count on one hand the people who'd willingly interact with him.

They don't even try to hide it, either. He can hear their whispers as he walks through the halls, can feel the side eyes as he maneuvers past the crowded corridors filled with loud, sweaty students and barely fighting back a gag. And Hongbin isn't stupid. He can put two and two and make four.

Andㅡ wellㅡ Hongbin gets it, okay? He totally understands them. He hates himself too, they aren't special, and he doesn't like a huge percentage of them anyway. But it's not like he goes out of his way to antagonize them or make enemies; he'd rather just keep his head down and go about his day and hang out with Chansik.

So it wouldn't be am exaggeration to say that Hongbin hates school. Loathes it. Resents it. With every fiber of his being down to the last strand of DNA. Chansik is a silver liningㅡ he's the one Hongbin is most comfortable with after Jaehwan, and one of the few people he talks to on a regular basis. Taekwoon used to be, but then. 

Well.

(There's no point continuing that train of thought, so Hongbin drowns it in the pits of his mind and hopes it never resurfaces again.)

And like he's said, Hongbin gets it. He has a very clear idea as to why a lot of people dislike him. Teachers have called him too outspoken, maybe a little aggressive, sometimesㅡ

“I think heinous bitch is the term used most often,” Chansik says innocuously as they walk through the halls, heading towards their next classes. The casual way he throws out the word startles a laugh out of Hongbin, and he gives his friend a playful shove.

“I mean,” Chansik continues, holding up two hands in surrender even though he's laughing as well, “I mean! It's not that I think you're a heinous bitch, it's just that a lot of people think you are.”

“Tempestuous seems to suit me better,” Hongbin says, stopping at the doorway to his next class. Chansik snorts.

“We get it, genius, you know words,” Chansik says with a grin. He gives the side of Hongbin's shoulder a playful punch before they say their goodbyes and Chansik disappears down the hallway. Once he's gone, Hongbin walks into the classroom, his feet leading him to his desk on autopilot. He plops down on his seat and gets his notes and pen out, leans back and idly goes through his phone as he waits for the class to start.

The door creaks open, and Mr. Jun walks in with books in tow, held against his side by one hand while the other one carries his laptop case. He sets his things on the table and the classroom immediately quiets down, students settling down on their seats. They go through the standard greeting before Mr. Jun says, “Going back to our previous topic…” and the students around Hongbin start scrabbling for their notes.

The one other thing Hongbin actually enjoys about going to school is literature with Mr. Jun. He likes the way the man speaks, likes the way he teaches. He brings in fresh, innovative ideas to novels that would have otherwise probably been boring. And Hongbin likes reading as much as the next guy, but the teacher just manages to make it so much more enjoyable.

He feels like he can relate to him, too, because Mr. Jun just seems tired of all the bullshit adolescents spew in his class, rolling his eyes at the dumb comments and even Hongbin's occasional smartassery. It's just a shame that this literature class has to be shared with the unwashed miscreants that go to his school, because while he's perfectly fine with ignoring their entire existence, it gets tiring when they're sitting behind them and he can hear every single word they're saying.

They've been discussing the Scarlet Letter for the past week now, and Hongbin really doesn't want to listen to Byungjun and his friend talk about how Demi Moore took her clothes off for a scene, and if he hears another word about it he's going to fucking snap.

Hongbin is a patient person. He can be nice. He generally is nice if you don't get on his nerves.

But today is a shitty day and Byungjun has always gotten on his nerves, and the way he and his friend are talking is drowning out the teacher. And hell if Hongbin is here for anything it's to actually learn, and this is the one class he actually likes. He tries to tune them outㅡ there isn't any point giving himself a bigger headache than he already hasㅡ but it's hard. Especially since their voices are so loud, so obnoxious.

So Hongbin turns around in his seat and glares at the both of them. Mr. Jun must have noticed, because how could he have not, he has eyes you dumb fucking idiotㅡ because Hongbin hears him clear his throat and ask, in a tired voice so deadpan he can hear him rolling his eyes, “Is there something you wanted to say, Hongbin?”

And here's the thing. 

Hongbin had a quick tongue and little to no brain to mouth filter. 

So if what he says lands him in the principal’s office, then, well that's on him.

“I'm sorry,” Chansik says with a shocked bark of laughter when Hongbin recounts to him what had happened at the end of the school day, both of them sitting on a stone bench and eating snacks. Hongbin's even a little surprised he didn't choke on his food, “You said  _ what _ ?”

“I said he was a misogynist overcompensating for a tiny dick,” Hongbin replies with a small grimace. It's not like he's lying. Byungjun  _ is  _ a misogynist. Hongbin can't speak for his dick, though, and it’s something that he never wants to speak for or even even entertain. “Barely off brand for me. I don't know why you're so surprised.”

“That's a nasty mental image,” Chansik remarks, and Hongbin shudders in agreement. He can't even look at his snacks anymore, making a face down at it before putting it in a container and slipping it inside his bag. He'll finish it later when he isn't as repulsed. 

“It's true though,” Hongbin has to say, and Chansik nods sagely.

It's not long before Chansik is laughing again, hand going up to cover his mouth so that food bits won't go flying everywhere. He swallows and tries to stifle his giggles. “Man,” he says, wiping his mouth with a tissue. “And the principal let you off the hook?”

“She seemed to like that I helped her with her porno,” Hongbin shrugs, rolling his eyes, but the ends of his mouth are twitching. “Quivering member, I said. She praised my literary expertise.”

“Sorry, didn't think porn counted as literary expertise.”

“Hey, she wasn't talking about  _ your  _ literary expertise.”

“Oh shut up,” Chansik says, and Hongbin cackles. Talking to Chansik is always so easy, so refreshing. Hongbin loves it. He'd call Chansik his bestest friend if Jaehwan hadn't already filled the position. 

“You seriously need to invest in a filter,” Chansik tells him. Hongbin nods in agreement. He thinks he really does. Chansik bounces in his seat. “And a better car. This one sucks.”

“You suck,” Hongbin fires back immediately, before turning his attention to the car. “Don't listen to him, he's being a dick.”

“Dude,” Chansik says, trying not to laugh. 

Hongbin playfully glares at him. “Don't be mean to her. She survives enough abuse from Jaehwan every day, and now you?”

Chansik dissolves into laughter again.

He doesn't stay for much longer, and Hongbin finds himself alone in his car again, sighing. He checks his phone. Jaehwan hasn't texted yet. Hongbin swears to God that if he gets blown off again he will strangle someone.

But then Jaehwan's bounding into the parking area and towards the car, and Hongbin let's out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He climbs in, flashing Hongbin an apologetic smile. “Sorry. The English teacher was keeping me hostage, I swear.”

Hongbin grimaces. He feels bad now. Guilty. He shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. “Yikes,” he says with a sympathetic wince.

Jaehwan nods, his pout deep. “Gunpoint and everything.”

“What happened, anyway?” Hongbin asks. He turns the engine on, and Jaehwan buckles his seatbelt. The other teen shrugs and waves a hand.

“It's nothing,” he says dismissively. “Just my grades. English is hard.”

Hongbin cringes and purses his lips, nodding.

“So anyways,” Jaehwan says, “I was thinking, we should get milkshakes. Did anything happen to you today? Something must have happened.”

“I called Byungjun a misogynistic asshole with a tiny dick,” Hongbin throws out casually. Jaehwan sputters out a  _ “What?” _ before dissolving into giggles, and Hongbin grins. It's good. They're good, he thinks as he drives them out of the school. Jaehwan's smiling, and he's smiling, and the negativity of the school day fades away, forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pacing is wonky but it'll get better i swear

**Author's Note:**

> ill try to update weekly!! and a consistent word count per chapter lmao
> 
> kudos and comments would be super cool!!!


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